Forgive Me, First Love
by poptartmuse
Summary: Post The Lost Hero fic.  Annabeth/Jason, Annabeth/Percy   various other ships.  When your world falls out from under you, who fills the void?
1. Part 1

Building the ship takes longer than Annabeth has time for. She draws the plans up in a feverish month and fully expects the boat to be completed in a couple days.

The Hephaestus cabin has other plans, however. After a full three months of work, the mere skeleton of a hull has been crafted.

"Annabeth, of all people, I thought you'd see reason here," Chiron says softly after bringing her aside. She has just chewed out a couple of the younger Hephaestus kids, and she isn't sorry for it. "They need time. We can't demand more than their best." He gives her a timid pat on the shoulder.

"The ship will be done soon," he says at last with finality. "Perhaps there are other things you can do to… distract you, until that time?"

"I don't need a distraction," she tells him. "I need a ship."

* * *

They make contact with the other camp, surprisingly, through a third party: that is, through the Hunters of Artemis. Thalia Iris messages Annabeth to tell her that Percy is alive and well, and that he is blissfully oblivious to the live he once lead. Thalia tells Annabeth that he seems different: harder, suppressed, more diligent. Annabeth off-handedly remarks that it's hard to consider Percy diligent, and then she remembers the way he acted during the Titan war.

A small _oh_ escapes her lips.

"They're making preparations to leave the _castra_," Thalia tells her softly, trying to convey a mourning tone while also telling her valuable information. "They'll be at Camp Half-Blood in two months. You should be… prepared. For all of them."

Annabeth blanches. "What do you mean, all of them?"

Thalia's mouth is a hard line when she answers. "Why do you think it'll take them such a long time to make their way across the country? They're taking the whole camp. They march as one giant _phalanx_, Annabeth. No one gets left behind."

Annabeth's mid flashes to Luke Castellan's face: bloodied in the heat of battle, a sad smile on his face, a sword buried to the hilt in his left side beneath his arm. _We leave people behind_. She looks to Thalia and can see a similar look of agony on the immortal girl's face.

"I know," the daughter of Zeus sighs. "Sometimes I think they do things better over there, too."

"I wasn't going to say that," Annabeth says defensively. "I was going to say—I miss him."

"Seems like you spend a lot of your life doing that," Thalia says with a strange tone in her voice. "The Hunters don't have to wait for much. We're do-ers—we act."

Thalia hangs up the Iris message before Annabeth can answer. Annabeth walks toward the Big House to give Chiron the deadline with a heavy heart.

* * *

She moves into the Poseidon cabin for two reasons: to keep herself from focusing on how long the ship was taking to build, and to remind herself daily of the man she has lost.

She doesn't take much with her—a few books, her knives, a picture of her and Percy sitting on the beach, a picture of her dad. It's not a lot, but it's more than what should fit in one person's arms. Still, she manages to get halfway across the quad without attracting too much attention before something shifts uncertainly—a large book (Annabeth believes it is her copy of the _Iliad_) tips over from its place at the precipice of her book-stack—and everything she's carrying comes crashing down.

She's cursing profusely when a tanned hand reaches down in her periphery, picking up a couple of old photos and the aforementioned_Iliad_. She up and sees the hero she's _not_ looking for.

"Thanks, Jason," she says weakly, holding out an already occupied hand.

"Nonsense," he says with a smile that could probably blind Apollo himself. "Where you headed?"

They walk to Cabin Three in an uncomfortable silence: Annabeth knew that Jason wouldn't turn her in—but still, the fact that _anyone_knew she was moving cabins set her on edge.

"I'd do the same," Jason tells her as they walk toward the cabin. "Move in here, I mean." Annabeth doesn't respond until they reach the front door.

"Don't tell anyone," she says in what she wants to be a commanding voice, but comes out like more of a plea. Jason nods and hands her the rest of her belongings. Her fingers graze his knuckles in the transaction and she feels the pinch of static shock. She doesn't flinch, doesn't say a word; Jason is doing her a small kindness here, and who is she to complain about a little pain. She knows pain, knows it like the back of her hand, like an old festering wound that refuses to heal. Still, the moment is bizarrely intimate, and Annabeth doesn't really know how to respond.

Jason glances at her before continuing their conversation from before.

"Course not," he says, giving her a 'who, me?' smile. He glances inside the cabin briefly, a troubled expression on his face. He looks as if he's about to say something when he bites his tongue and refrains. Annabeth is grateful for his silence.

"Thanks, Jason," she sighs in relief.

Jason turns and takes two steps away before calling over his shoulder, "Any chance we could go over some strategy before things get too crazy around here? I'm feeling a little out of the loop. You children of Minerva—I mean, of Athena… you seem to think you've got everything under control. I'd love to hear what you've got in store for all of us."

Annabeth nods, frankly surprised at his interest. "Sure," she complies, half from pride for her cabin's mental prowess, half to send him on his way. He gives a small salute and meanders to the right toward Cabin One, leaving Annabeth on her own in the cabin where her boyfriend used to live.

She sets down her belongings on Percy's nightstand, basking in the aquamarine glow of the Poseidon cabin. She realizes, after all that effort, that she needs none of the things she brought with her: sinking down into Percy's bed, cocooning herself in his blankets, she can faintly detect the smell of teenage boy festering in the fabric.

It isn't enough.

* * *

"The _Argo II_ should be big enough to hold at least ten, even though the prophecy only calls for seven," Annabeth tells him over the schematics to the aforementioned ship. It helps her to divert her attention away from the actual process of putting the planks into place; explaining the minutia of the ship to Jason is surprisingly not trivial. She finds herself surprised by the innovations of the Hephaestus cabin (she is herself most partial to the canon that shoots arrows tipped with Greek fire). "Though the Roman camp is bringing enough campers to fill the boat at least three times over."

Jason does not look surprised when she reveals the sheer magnitude of what she has come to call The Roman Legion.

"Everyone at the Roman camp trains equally hard so that we all have this, this uniform strength," Jason begins, the words just within his grasp. "This way when we fight, we fight as one unit of sheer power. We don't leave anyone behind because we have no need to. To be better than your peer is an anomaly, a fault of a system that should make everyone equal."

Jason's memories had at first come back in a deluge, but since then it had been more of a drip. He remembered, but he didn't feel connected to the other camp in the same way he had learned to love Camp Half-Blood. He knew he _should_ feel his allegiance shift to his home, but Jason didn't know where his home was anymore.

"You're an anomaly, then?" Annabeth says with a grin. "You don't strike me as someone who can blend in real well."

He shrugs. "Not really my fault who my dad is."

"There are lots of things in this world we can't control," Annabeth says slowly, trying also to convince herself of the truth in her words. "But we are what we make of the situations we're thrust into, right?" She looks at him with sad eyes, silently begging for a release from the way the conversation has headed.

Jason nods, and the clouds above them seems to darken briefly before fading back to a balmy blue sky.

It doesn't feel like hours, but by the time she finishes telling him the route they're taking to get to Greece, it's dark out.

Annabeth's stomach growls. She laughs. "Dinner?"

* * *

The days become easier once Nico arrives. It feels good to see a familiar face, a face that knew the same pain she felt. Nico's grown up fast in the past few years, but especially since Percy's disappearance. Annabeth notes that since then, Nico has attempted to take on the mantle of leader: sometimes successfully, sometimes otherwise. Leading took prescence, which Nico had by birth right as the son of Hades, one of the Big Three. Still, he remained a skinny loner; thankfully he shot up over the past year and a half, now nearly towering over Annabeth herself.

"I think it's related to my time in the Lotus Hotel," he tells her over dinner. "Making up for lost time."

He doesn't bring up Percy until a few hours later. Annabeth, while grateful not to think about her missing boyfriend for a bit, is eager to discuss him with Nico, someone who understands Percy in the same way she and Grover do.

She notices that Nico's drink is a deep blue. She points it out and he shrugs. "Figured I owe the guy to carry on his tradition of bizarrely colored drinks. Still tastes like Coke."

Annabeth smiles softly and pushes her plate away, finally turning to face Nico head on.

"Any news from the Romans? You must shadow travel over there a bit," Annabeth prods, nearly begging for information. Nico looks at her shiftily, not necessarily willing to reveal more than he had to to prevent getting pummeled by an angry head counselor.

"I go there sometimes, but just as a scout," he admits at last. "Percy seems okay, at least." When Nico says Percy's name, Annabeth flinches imperceptibly. "I work a lot with the Hunters. I bet you they didn't tell you that _I_ found the entrance to the Roman Camp."

"Have you been inside?" she asks, intrigued.

"A little. They divide their camp into seven hills, just like Rome itself: Palatine Hill holds what we'd call the Big House," Nico begins, taking a sip of blue cola. "The next biggest hill is Capitoline, and that's where the houses for the Big Three stand."

"Jupiter, Pluto, and Neptune?" Annabeth asks.

"No, and that's where it gets weird: they consider the big three to be Jupiter, Neptune, and _Mars_. I guess it's because they consider war such an important part of being Roman." Nico looks disgusted as he says the words: Annabeth sympathizes, seeing as his father had pretty much been deposed as one of the three most powerful gods on Olympus.

"That's bizarre," Annabeth agrees quietly.

Nico continues to describe the various hills, where the 'houses' are scattered. Annabeth listens in rapture, glad to have something new to wrap her mind around.

When they finally run out of things to say, Nico stands up.

"Thanks a lot for dinner, Nico," Annabeth says. "You should stick around here more often... it's good to see you."

"Nice to see you too, Wise Girl," he says, mock saluting her. For a moment, Annabeth is quiet, just resting a hand over the middle of her chest.

"Annabeth?" Nico asks, concerned.

"Don't call me that," she breathes. Her chest feels constricted, as if in a vice grip. "It's too soon."

He looks himself pained at her grief. "I'm sorry, Annabeth." A moment of loss deepens the gap between them; Annabeth sees a shadow flicker over Nico's features, and she wonders briefly who has been taking care of him. She has friends, but Nico tends to stand alone.

"So what do you think of the newbies?" she says, trying to change the subject.

"Well, that Drew girl is absolutely horrible," Nico says with a slight chuckle. "I may have tripped her on the way out of target practice earlier today." Annabeth guffaws, and it feels like a real moment of happiness.

"Piper seems cool," he adds. "She reminds me of Silena."

Annabeth sobers up and nods. "That's a worthy comparison."

"From what I saw of Leo earlier," Nico says, a strange expression on his face, "I've got a feeling we're going to have a lot in common."

Annabeth tilts her head in a silent question.

"Second banana to the head honcho? Really, Annabeth, you didn't see the comparison?" Nico says, but Annabeth can tell that is just scratching the surface.

* * *

A couple weeks pass since Nico's arrival and Annabeth elects to distract herself with training: one could always use a bit more practice in the field if one planned on fighting a huge, forty foot tall immortal giant king. At the practice arena, Annabeth draws a sword—it's mid-length and lean, a nice fit for her fighting style. She generally prefers the bow or two short knives, but she can certain handle herself as a swordswoman.

She grips the sword tight and raises it, touching her left hand to the flat of the blade. It would be good to get a work out in, to do_something_ instead of sitting on her hands until the Roman campers arrived.

"Need a partner?" calls a familiar voice. Annabeth opens her eyes to see Jason before her. She smiles.

"Only if you have a special desire to get your ass kicked," she laughs. He pulls out the sword Juno had gifted him; it shines in the daylight, glinting so brightly as to nearly blind Annabeth.

He clinks the tip of his sword against hers, signally the beginning of the match. He attempts a maneuver that Annabeth has seen a version of performed by Travis Stoll a couple times, but the ending flourish has a twist that is new to Annabeth and keeps her on her toes.

"Interesting moves," she grunts, whipping her sword around and throwing him backwards. He grins and moves his feet back and forth, clearly ready for another onslaught.

The battle goes on for what feels like forever: both Annabeth and Jason fight to win. She could feel her own pride getting in the way of calling a draw, and in spite of knowing him for such a short time, Annabeth could see that Jason too drew upon pride as a motivator.

At long last, Annabeth tries a move Percy had taught her—it catches Jason off-guard and his sword clatters to the ground. Breathing hard, Annabeth flicks the blade of her sword to Jason's throat.

"That last move," he gasps, "that looked so different in comparison to the rest of your slashes. Nice work."

She grins and sheathes her sword, allowing him to collect his own. "Percy taught me it last year, and I'm pretty sure he learned it from Luke, who was the best swordmaster this camp has seen in decades." A warm smile blossoms over her face as she remembers the first time she disarmed Percy using that same trick.

Jason's shirt is soaked with sweat, but it still looks surprisingly good on him. Annabeth allows herself to watch a bead of sweat drip down his Adam's apple into the neck of his tee-shirt before chiding herself—enough.

"You okay?" he asks.

"You're good," she compliments him. "Clearly the Roman camp teaches their campers well. That's nice to know, if we're going to be walking into battle with them."

"The Roman camper's training should be the last thing you worry about," Jason said with a laugh. "Trust me—we're good."

Annabeth laughs and is about to make a comment, questioning exactly how good they could be if she had just beaten him, when she glances over Jason's shoulder and sees Piper standing in the distance with another younger Aphrodite girl, looking positively furious.

"I think I upset your girlfriend," Annabeth tells Jason in warning. "If you're too tired to make-out, don't blame me."

Jason shrugs. "She's not my girlfriend. Back home…" Jason stares off into the distance, clearly lost in the pieces of his memory he had retrieved thus far.

"Is there someone back home waiting for you?" Annabeth asks, the question cutting close to her own current situation.

"I think there might be," Jason admits, but he looks uncertain. "But it's all so muddled in my mind, I don't really know what I can trust right now. The Mist made me think I loved Piper." Annabeth nods in understanding—she would be wary of any relationship that had been forced upon her by an unknown hand.

"Lunch is on me, big guy," she says, clapping him on the back. Somehow, over the months that they'd been at camp, Jason had grown even taller than her.

"That might actually be sweet if we paid for food around here," Jason grins.

"Shut up," she laughs as they walk toward the dining area.

* * *

Later that day, Annabeth is sitting on a log by the woods when she hears a voice call out her name: it's Piper, by herself this time.

"May I join you?" she asks Annabeth, who nods with a smile, patting part of the log next to her. Annabeth's holding a few photos that Jason had found in Cabin One.

"Nice photo," the girl tells her. Annabeth tilts her head, immediately on guard. The tone of Piper's voice is not complimentary. "Can I see?"

Piper's fingers run over the edge of the photograph as the younger girl gazes at the trio depicted: dark-haired Thalia, giggling madly over a stupid joke, Luke and his crooked smile, looking gloriously handsome and mischievous, and Annabeth herself at the center, gazing up at Luke adoringly.

"So you've always had a thing for blonds," Piper mutters. The words are so painfully sharp they feel like knives.

"Don't assume you know me, girl," Annabeth says, snatching the photo back. Piper seems to realize that she's crossed a line, but the daughter of Aphrodite doesn't apologize. "Luke is dead."

Piper puts a hand to her mouth, eyes wide. "Annabeth, I'm so sorry."

Annabeth can feel a tinge of charmspeak in her words, begging her to forgive and forget. Annabeth breaks eye contact with Piper.

"Percy has dark hair," she says distantly. "Beautiful, dark hair that looks nearly green in the sunlight." Annabeth's eyes well with tears. "Matches his eyes, you know?"

Annabeth leaves Piper on the verge of a breakdown. Her eyes are on the ground in front of her; she focuses on putting one foot in front of another, on making her way to the Poseidon cabin before she finally loses it. She feels like a widow twice over: the loss of Luke was enough for a lifetime… but the gods seemed to have more in store for her. Now they had taken Percy from her. It was easy to blame them, and so she did—fervently.

She doesn't make to Cabin Three—instead, she hits a wall of teenage boy head on.

"Woah there," Jason says, looking down at her. Leo stands to his right, a concerned look on his face.

"You okay?" the dark haired boy asks. "Anyone I should be making nice and toasty?" Annabeth smiles at Leo. The son of Hephaestus looks exhausted and she doubted he could conjure smoke, let alone a flame. A smear of grease runs down his cheek and Annabeth realizes just how hard the entire cabin has been working to get the _Argo II_ afloat.

"I appreciate the offer, but it's okay," Annabeth says kindly, taking his hands in her own. "Leo, I—"

"If you're about to profess your undying love for me and my macho ways, let me take this moment to inform you that you've already got a boyfriend," Leo says with a wide smile. Annabeth blinks hard, trying to keep the tears in.

"I wanted to thank you—the whole Hephaestus cabin, really—but you in particular," she says, true gratitude in her voice. "You work as if sleep is a luxury. You never complain. You just continue to make the _Argo II _great." She gives his hands a squeeze before letting them go.

As she walks away, she hears Leo mutter to Jason, "Well, that's _definitely_ not normal."

* * *

The Romans arrive a month later. They stand together in a giant elongated rectangle, each member of the ranks dressed to the nines: every person, man or woman, had a silver chest-plate that covered the torso from neck to hip, engraved with various feats the camper had apparently accomplished. Below that—

"Woah," Connor Stoll says under his breath. The Greek campers had gathered quickly since the Romans' arrival. "They're all wearing_skirts_."

It was true: everyone had on a leather skirt, with tanned legs poking out from underneath them. On some people, it looks plain wrong: big, beefy guys with muscles down to there in skirts? It strikes Annabeth as oddly amusing. In another moment, Annabeth might have laughed along with Connor—but that's when she sees Percy.

He's pretty hard to miss. Each member of the _phalanx_ has a plumed helmet with purple hair sticking out from the top, but only one person has a cape of bright blue attached to the shoulder of his chest plate. The cape trails behind him, a burst of color in a sea of monotony. When he pulls off the helmet, she sees that he's cut his hair short: in a word, Percy looks very Clooney.

"Holy shit," she says under her breath. Only her boyfriend could make wearing a skirt look incredibly… well,_ hot_.

He approaches the Greek contingent with a newfound confidence that Annabeth guessed they beat into you at the Roman camp. He looks at the people who used to be his friends with a profound contempt that Annabeth finds does not suit him. Percy draws Riptide and sticks it blade first into the ground.

"Who is your _praetor_?" he calls out.

No one moves except Jason, who puts a hand on the inside of her wrist. Annabeth hadn't noticed him join the group, but the sense of relief she had him at her right hand was substantial.

"He's calling out our leader," Jason whispers.

Annabeth draws her bow and shoots an arrow into the ground next to Riptide. At first, the Roman legion cannot tell who has shot the arrow—and it is clear, when Annabeth steps out from the pack of Greeks, that she is not what they expect.

Percy looks at her—really looks at her, looks at her as if his eyes could burn a hole right through her.

"Who is your _praetor_?" he repeats, the question now directed at her. He appraises her, and she can nearly taste the disdain.

A raucous laugh that originates in the Roman hoard permeates the silence.

Then the catcalls begin:

"A _woman _leads them!"

"That's 'cause the Greeks are _all_ women!"

Annabeth doesn't deign their words with a reaction, but the ever-growing crowd of Greek campers behind her is not having it. Someone thankfully claps a hand over Connor Stoll's mouth before he can return the insult, and then some.

"Hey!" a voice calls out. Annabeth hears a voice, laced with power, call out above the madness. Annabeth doesn't turn to see her compatriots, but soon Piper, Jason, and Leo are standing beside her. Piper's eyes are blazing, daring the Romans to call out another girl.

The Romans are silent. Annabeth nods to Piper. The daughter of Aphrodite seems to blaze like a thousand suns, like she knows what she's doing. Annabeth hopes she does.

"Friends, Romans, countrymen," she begins over a low din of static noise that immediately dies down. "On behalf of Annabeth and the rest of Camp Half-Blood, we would like to welcome the First Legion, hailing from my homeland, California."

Some of the Romans are so in sync with her that they raise their weapons in salute in response. Piper puts out a hand, and they lower their spears slowly.

"We all know why we're here: it is time has come for two great peoples to become one. We are at war with the world, ladies and gentlemen, and don't think I mean that metaphorically," Piper says seriously. There is a dissonant murmur that rumbles through the Roman _phalanx_: Annabeth feels an ugly smugness course through her. The Greeks appear to have the upper hand in this battle for dominance, information wise.

"Gaea is our enemy. The giants are rising. There is no room for in-fighting—the time to be children is over," Piper continues, locking eyes with a particularly disgruntled looking Roman girl. "Either we come together now and face our enemies… or divided, we will all die."

Annabeth has seen Piper charmspeak before, but this—this is something different. Every word she says is said with utter conviction: she believes her words, and thus makes the world believe her. She radiates an aura so ebullient that, in that moment, Annabeth is certain that even Gaea would give her pause.

A white wolf stalks out from behind Percy, who seems boggled that two women are leading their Greek counterparts.

_Greetings, Greeks,_ a low voice growls, permeating Annabeth's mind. _I am Lupa—I am in charge of _Castra Heroicus.

"Demigod Camp," Jason translates in Annabeth's ear.

_The daughter of Aphrodite is correct. We have come to pledge fealty to you and to join you in the battle against Gaea and the giants._

The wolf at last bows her head toward Jason.

_It is good to see you again, son of Jupiter._ Jason nods toward her, a tight smile on his face.

Percy approaches Annabeth, Jason, Piper, and Leo with Lupa at his side.

"So you're Jason?" Percy asks. He doesn't make eye contact with Annabeth, just cursorily lets his gaze wander over her. For a moment too long, he stares at Piper. Annabeth can nearly read his thoughts aloud: _where does power like that come from?_

Jason nods, sticking out a hand for Percy to shake. Percy looks down at it for a moment, then grasps the hand in his own. It's not a normal handshake: the thumbs are clasped around each other, as if the two men were about to pull each other into an embrace.

Percy lets go and turns to Piper, who looks exhilarated and amped up on adrenaline. "A daughter of Venus," he says with a smile, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. "I should have known. The Romans were descended from Aeneas, the son of Venus. The strength in you is… substantial, for one so small."

He ignores Leo, turning his attention at last to Annabeth.

"It's been a while, Percy," Annabeth says. She finds herself a little peeved that he hasn't kissed _her_ hand yet.

Percy's eyebrow quirks upward, and he glances at Lupa. "Do I… know you?"

That's when Annabeth feels the bottom drop out from under her. She remains standing, but her heart is no longer in this exchange.

"You haven't regained your memories," Annabeth says plainly. Percy shakes his head from side to side.

"No… before I arrived at _Castra_, it's all a blank slate," Percy admits grudgingly. "Though if it was so important, I think I would have remembered it by now."

This is the final straw. Annabeth lets out a deep, shaky breath. She's ready to go collapse in bed and sleep the grief away. A hand at the small of her back tells her otherwise.

"You have to do this," Jason whispers. "You're our _praetor_. You need to finish what you started."

"We will both, as _praetori_ for our respective camps," Percy continues, pretending as if he cannot see the hurt on Annabeth's face, "swear fealty to one another. Then we shall need lodgings and food. After that, we will need to discuss our strategy on how exactly we're going to defeat Gaea and her giant army."

Annabeth nods, and Percy draws a small knife from his belt—made from silver, not celestial bronze or imperial gold. He grasps the blade of the knife in his left hand and makes a slit down his hand, which begins to drip blood.

"I'm afraid you'll have to be quick about it—the curse of Achilles doesn't let me bleed for long," Percy says peevishly, handing her the knive. Annabeth silently slits her palm; the physical pain is a good anchor to the world around her, rather than the agony inside her head. Percy raises his hand and Annabeth grasps it in the same way Jason had. Percy raises their clasped hands over his head, bringing their bodies close enough to touch. His green eyes blaze into her grey ones, and Annabeth doesn't breath until they let go.

Exhaling at last, Annabeth finally hears the dull roar that has erupted from both the Roman legion and the Greek contingent.

"You're done," a low voice murmurs in her ear. "It's done. You want to go?"

Annabeth nods and feels herself get led away from the crowd. A chant of "An-na-beth! An-na-beth!" follows her as she walks away with Jason at her side. He's half-leading, half-carrying her by the time they're out of side of the Romans: he had put his hand in the small of her back to bring her toward the Poseidon cabin, and she had taken that and run with it, leaning into his side, using him as a crutch.

"No, we can't go here," she says as they reach Cabin Three. She couldn't imagine Percy's reaction to her sleeping in his bed. "Can we—can we go somewhere else?" Jason wordlessly leads her to the left, toward Cabin One.

He opens the door and lets her inside.

"Here, over here," he tells her, bringing her to a rumpled bed that was clearly his own. She sits and then lies back. The heartbreak doesn't lessen. "You kicked some serious ass out there."

"Was that what I did," she says with little force behind her words.

"Annabeth, you knew this wouldn't be easy," he tells her, pulling up the covers.

She nods numbly.

"I'm sorry it went the way it did," he apologizes.

"Don't," she starts. "Don't apologize for him. That's not your job."

"What is my job, then?" he asks her. She smiles at him and takes his hand.

"You're here for me," she says honestly. "I hear that's a pretty rough gig."

His eyes crinkle. "The dental is too good for me to quit," he says with a grin, accompanied by a blush as she squeezes his fingers tight.

He stands and lets his fingers fall from her hand.

"Stay?" she asks him plaintively.

"As if I'm leaving you alone," he laughs, kicking off his own shoes one foot at a time. Annabeth watches as he pulls over a cot. "I've got ulterior motives for hiding out here," he admits, running a hand up the back of his neck. "Those kids out there, those Romans… I know them. Or at least, I knew them before…" He gestures broadly in the air, signifying 'all this craziness.' "I'm not sure how to be the person they used to know. I don't know if I can fill my own shoes, crazy as that might sound."

"You don't sound crazy," Annabeth tells him. To be honest, he sounded _scared_, but she wasn't about to tell him that. "You just need to take some time to plan your next move. Athena would be proud."

It doesn't take Annabeth very long to drift into sleep, but her rest is uneasy, like a ship in a storm. She wakes every so often, fear at the fast-fading dream tugging at the pit of her stomach. It's only when she lays eyes on Jason, snoozing contentedly to her right, that she feels… safe? At peace? Annabeth doesn't know what it is exactly. What she does feel is a creeping guilt and horror at the situation she's let herself fall into: as devious as one of Daedalus's traps, she has fallen prey to what some might call 'the rebound.'

When she realizes exactly what she's been doing with Jason, leading him on, she feels ashamed of herself. Who did she think she was, some cruel-hearted daughter of Aphrodite? Her heart belonged to Percy Jackson… didn't it?

She watches Jason inhale and exhale, the light playing with his flaxen hair. He had his own romantic issues as well—Piper, for one, and this mysterious Roman figure he had alluded to after their bout. Maybe they were simply distracting each other from the inevitable. Maybe what they were doing would save them both a little sanity in the long run.

But what _were_ they doing?

Annabeth breathes out a long, hard breath. "I don't know," she admits to herself softly. "But it needs to stop."


	2. Part 2

Jason and Annabeth stick to each other like glue for the next few weeks. Annabeth begins to take his presence for granted: he's there when she falls asleep, snoozing peacefully, and when she wakes up, preparing for the day. She takes advantage of their living situation: lying from her (really his) bed, she can watch him dress in comfortable silence.

This morning, for instance, he pulls off the shirt that he slept in in one slick motion, revealing a tan back with a few white scars that contrast with his sun-soaked skin pleasantly. Annabeth watches as his muscles move under one of the white lines that runs across his shoulder blade; she pulls the covers up to her chin and waits for him to turn around. All the while, Annabeth cannot help but feel guilt and mortification at taking pleasure out of seeing Jason half naked. She _should_ be in the cabin of a different boy, half (or even _fully_) naked with _him_.

Jason interrupts her thought process by turning toward her at long last: his jeans hang on his hipbones, and his chest remains blessedly free from clothing.

"Morning," he mumbles with a smile. Horrified that he caught her staring, Annabeth manages the quiet reply, "Morning," before turning her head away.

"Don't worry about it," he says, a light blush on his cheeks. For a moment, Annabeth thinks she can detect a hint of amusement in his eyes, followed by something else: desire. The revelation makes Annabeth's head light for a moment, and she sits up, unnerved.

"Come on," he says, throwing some of his clothes at her: a purple tee-shirt and a pair of ripped up jeans. She tugs them on haphazardly, trying to ignore his eyes boring into the back of her neck. When she takes off her sleep tank top, she turns away from him and lets the shirt fall to the floor. Annabeth sends up a little prayer to Aphrodite, thanking her for reminding her to wear her nice black bra yesterday. She hears Jason inhale sharply, and it sends a little shiver of pleasure up her spine. Then the guilt sets in. She tugs the shirt over her head, angry at how easily her body could be manipulated.

"We've got to meet with the Roman crew for breakfast," she tells him curtly. He nods and they walk out of Cabin One together.

* * *

The guilt of leading Jason Grace on is not nearly enough motivation for Annabeth to send him away. They have never kissed, but their_togetherness_ remains Camp Half-Blood's worst-kept secret. There are those who know Annabeth and of her devotion to Percy—they believe that Annabeth and Jason have just become good friends, because they cannot believe the alternative. Others less inclined to give Annabeth the benefit of the doubt are more accusatory: Annabeth has heard words like "slut" and "whore" coughed in her direction a couple of times. Needless to say, the entire Athena cabin has her back—in both instances, the perpetrators were found the next day tied upside down to a tree, with the word "LIAR" scrawled across their foreheads. Annabeth had chastised her cabin later that day, but very halfheartedly.

Throughout most of the preliminary meetings, Annabeth is not seen without another tall blond by her side, or leaning over her shoulder: Jason watches the proceedings in silent observation. He doesn't have much to add to the conversation, as a lot of the tactics are a bit over his head. What he does recognize is that the Romans don't respect Annabeth, and that Annabeth has had it with trying to convince them that, despite her vagina, she can still construct a wicked plan of attack.

The Roman leaders worked their way out of the fray fairly quickly: Percy, of course, remained at the head of the pack, but another boy, slightly older than Percy, with black hair and a moody disposition, makes his voice heard at nearly all the war meetings: Derek Porter. Annabeth sizes him up pretty easily: slightly cruel, but ultimately too good at his job to be chastised. He's a son of Mars and lets everybody know it.

Another Roman leader is a daughter of Bacchus named Gwendolyn Doyle; she's not quite looked up to in the same way Percy and Derek are, but she has a quick tongue and a sharp wit Annabeth is frankly surprised to see. At first, she determines that Gwendolyn is someone that she could potentially like, but then she sees the little looks Percy gives her from time to time—full of intimate tenderness—and Annabeth decides that she hates the girl entirely. One time, when Percy actually squeezed Gwen's hand over the table, Annabeth fully excused herself to contain her jealousy. Jason had followed her outside the room, full of concern, and Annabeth had shooed him away; furious at Percy, furious at her situation, and furious at herself.

* * *

Today, as with many other days, Annabeth finds breakfast tasteless and cold. She pushes her food around her plate and finally decides that it's not worth the battle to stomach it down.

"I'm going to go check out the Argo II, if anyone wants to come with me," she announces to the table. For a moment, everyone looks at Jason, whose mouth is full of eggs. A familiar voice clears his throat from the edge of the table.

"I'd love to see it," Percy Jackson tells her with a cocksure smile. Annabeth's stomach twists inadvertently. She waves him on with more confidence than she actually feels and the two walk toward the dock together.  
Watching the boat crest over the horizon is a magnificent sight to see; it takes Annabeth's breath away, and she can see that Percy is also awed.

"Whoa," he tells her. "This is incredible."

"Wait until you see the cannons that shoot Greek fire," she says with a smile. The look on his face is priceless: Percy's grin is broad and genuine, like a kid in a candy shop. "Let me see if I can get Leo to take us around. Maybe they'll actually let me help out for once."

The Hephaestus cabin had as of yet been notorious touchy about who they allowed to work on the Argo II: Annabeth had offered multiple times to assist, but Leo had insisted at the time that "No one touches my baby unless you're a Cabin Nine-r." Since the sons and daughters of Vulcan had arrived, things had changed. Things seemed to be going along twice as quickly with twice the manpower. The Roman and Greek kids of Hephaestus/Vulcan actually seemed to get along, once they discovered their interests were pretty similar.

She can see Leo at a distance, holding a massive clipboard, wearing a slightly-too-big yellow hardhat that rests atop his mass of black curls. Annabeth's fondness for him has grown throughout his time at Camp Half-Blood. She waves at him jovially and he greets the two of them, a confused expression briefly flickering across his face as he sees Percy.

"Howdy, Leo," Annabeth says in greeting. "Any chance you could give us a tour?" In a stage whisper, she adds, "Percy would really like to see the cannons."

The way that Percy's face lights up when he steps onto the deck of the ship almost feels like old times. Annabeth beams at his awed expression as Leo proudly explains the intricacies of the ship. The way that Percy catches Annabeth as she slips on something suspiciously like motor oil and Tabasco sauce… it feels like it could be a year ago. Annabeth savors the morning.

* * *

Meanwhile, the red-haired girl sits down next to Jason at the breakfast table without a greeting—just a glare that could probably cut glass.

"Can I help you?" he asks her. He only recognizes her when she speaks.

"Jason Grace, gods help me, I thought you'd have a bit more to say to your _girlfriend_," Reyna hisses at him, anger flaring.

_She's not a daughter of Mars for nothing,_ Jason muses.

"Reyna," he breathes.

"Not one Iris Message?" she says, eyes flicking toward Annabeth and Percy walking away in the distance. "Well… you move on quick, don't you?"

Jason is conflicted: on the one hand, he knows that before the exchange, he really loved Reyna. Like—really, deeply, truly. On the other hand, he knows that right now, he feels anger at her assumptions. Jason chooses to ignore her comment about Annabeth and hunkers down.

"You have _no idea_ what the hell I've been through," Jason says, rage boiling inside him. "I have battled my way across the country, not knowing who I was or where I came from… I killed scores of Earthborn, werewolves, even a giant. I tackled the king of the giants with my_bare hands_. That's a lot to gloss over, Reyna." Suddenly, the anger dissipates. "Damn," he remembers with a smile. "You always did know how to get me riled up." He stands and starts walking away from her—she's not worth his temper.

For a moment, Reyna looks at him like she wants to jump his bones right at the breakfast table; then, just as suddenly, her expression turns icy. Reyna hops up from the table and runs after him.

"I suppose it shouldn't surprise me—a faithless son of Jupiter."

It's as if she's just stabbed an ice pick in his gut. Jason feels all the air go out of him, his mouth dropping open slightly. He turns in place to face her. Reyna looks a little remorseful, as if she knows that with those words, she's potentially lost Jason forever.

"Jason," she starts, attempting some sorry attempt at an apology, or whatever—Jason is not interested. The words had cut him deeply. "Jason, I'm—"

"Reyna, I'm not the guy you fell in love with," he tells her frankly, not really in the mood to spare her feelings. "Not anymore. Too much has changed for me to just fall back in line—"

"Fall back in love, Jason. We were in love," Reyna cuts in softly, her words clearly reflecting a broken heart.

"This is hard, I know..." Jason says in a cool voice that he knows doesn't suit him. Reyna cuts him off before he can cause any more damage.

"No, Jason, you don't know!" she growls, eyes glittering with wetness. "Or you wouldn't be doing this to me!"  
She looks away as she wipes her eyes. He averts his gaze, allowing her what little privacy he could. Even with his lack of memories, he could vaguely recall her hatred for crying. He hates himself for making her shed tears because of him. When he puts a hand over her knuckles, she breathes a sigh of hopeful relief, covering his hand with her own. Jason retrieves his hand, unnerved at their intimacy.

"Either we start over or you're going to lose me, Reyna," Jason warns her. "I can't just get back to where we were. I'm not there."

"What if I'm not willing to start over?" Reyna asks him angrily. "What if I don't want to throw away years of my life because of your… dalliances?"

"Then I'm gone," Jason tells her, standing up. He hates this conversation—having put it off for so long, it's become all the more potent.

"Seems like you've already made your choice. Seems like you're already gone," Reyna says, her eyes small slits of anger.

A weight lifts from Jason's shoulders as he walks away from her. It feels good—like he can breathe again.

* * *

Annabeth drops her muddy armor at the foot of her bed. She's covered in sweat from the day, and she's certain she smells absolutely vile. Groaning from a long and hard day's work, she begins peeling off layers of dirty clothing and letting them fall in a pile on the floor. She's half naked when Jason enters Cabin One, looking about as exhausted as she feels. Once he sees her state of nakedness, Jason perks up a bit.

"Whoa, sorry," he stammers, turning on the spot. Annabeth sighs; she's thankful she still has her underwear on. Wrapping a towel around herself, she deems herself decent and tells Jason to turn around. When Jason lays eyes upon her again, he remains on edge.

"Annabeth," he says to the silence between them, refusing to make eye contact with her.  
Her throat tightens. _No_, she thinks. _I'm not ready for this conversation_. Jason's face, however, says that he is.

"Can I shower first?" she pleads. "I promise… we'll talk." He hesitates before nodding, and she quickly grabs her things for a shower and bolts out door before he can change his mind.

She lets the water run over her until the water runs cold. When she finally gets out of the stall, she has to be mindful to not take any more time, knowing that Jason's waiting and will come looking for her if she starts taking too long. Thoughts of what she would say to him were on her mind the entire time she showered, and continued to be as she made her way back to Cabin One. She pushes the door open to see that Jason is sitting on his bed with his head in his heads, waiting for her.

"What is it we're doing, here, Annabeth?" he asks her uncertainly as she sits down across from him, still wet from the shower. She clutches at the white towel, feeling very exposed. Usually, Jason would throw her a shirt of his to sleep in, but right now… well, he seems very intent on an answer from her.

"Jason," she sighs, running a hand through her damp hair.

"I just want to know... what you think we are. Are we together?" he asks her, the words out in the open at last. She locks eyes with him. "I mean, we're together all the time," he rambles, trying to put off the moment that she puts him down. "And everyone seems to think it already. And I…"

"Let me stop you there," Annabeth says, hand outstretched. "First things first: without you, Jason Grace, I could not have gotten through this past month. When I was weak, you made sure no one else saw. You gave me the strength to face my past and overcome it." She feels genuine affection for Jason. She just doesn't know if that's the same as loving him.

"Don't you feel like there's something… wrong? About this?" she asks him plaintively.

"What are you talking about?" Jason asks her immediately—but his eyes betray him: they hold both longing and fear.

"Don't you think that we're both meant for… this is going to sound weird," Annabeth admits unhappily, "but, meant for something better?"

"So you're settling for me," Jason says in a blank voice.

"Jason, no," she says, frustrated. "That's not what I mean."

"Then what _do_ you mean?" he asks her. "Just—you need to decide between us before it tears me apart." Annabeth is certain that he's talking about choosing between him and Percy, and that's a choice she's not prepared to make.

He stands up, and in a quick movement, presses a soft kiss into Annabeth's damp hair. Then he heads for the door.

"Where are you going?" she asks him.

"I need to cool off," he tells her. "And you need to think about actually _answering_ my question. It doesn't have to be tonight—" He cuts off her wide eyes and scared expression. "Just... soon. You can't keep us hanging on the edge forever, Annabeth. Either we're both going to fall, or I'm going down alone."

* * *

Jason is sitting against a log, watching Annabeth spar against her cabin-mate Malcolm, when Percy sits down next to him.

"Hey, man," he says with a friendly grin. Jason lifts up a hand in recognition and smiles slightly. They both sit in comfortable silence, watching Annabeth beat Malcolm into a pulp: it's not that Malcolm is _bad_, per se, but Annabeth fights like the hellhounds of Hades spur her every move.

"She's pretty incredible," Percy states, less as an opinion and more as a fact.

Jason nods.

"Can I ask you something—about her?" Percy says, turning his body slightly toward Jason and away from the fighting before them. Jason straightens his back. He can smell something metallic in the air, a portent of something that's about to happen. He can taste his world falling apart and there's nothing he can do about it.

Jason nods.

"She keeps… looking at me," Percy says, struggling to find the question he actually wants the answer to. "Like I'm supposed to do something. Like… she knows something about me that is so obvious that I've managed to miss it completely." Percy is looking down at his hands when Jason finally answers with a sigh.

"Did no one tell you?" Jason asks Percy. Percy shakes his head, eyes wide. Jason runs a hand up the back of his neck, wanting to do the exact opposite of what he knew he had to do. "You're in love. I mean—you were, before the exchange happened. Boyfriend and girlfriend and all that jazz—" Jason stops talking when Percy lets out a long, low breath.

"Wow," Percy says.

"Yeah," Jason agrees.

They both return to watching Annabeth. Jason can feel Percy's eyes flick every so often back to him.

"Looks like I'm not the only one in love," Percy murmurs. Jason's head turns sharply toward Percy, who eyes him warily. Jason looks at Percy with apologetic eyes.

"She still loves you, man," Jason admits. It's a thought he's entertained for a while: the idea that even while she spends the day with him, Jason, she's thinking about Percy Jackson, the boy she loved and lost. It's only when he actually says the words to Percy that he starts to believe them. "I just want to see her be happy again."

"She seems pretty happy with you," Percy floats out there. Jason shrugs in response.

"She's not really with me," he says truthfully. "When we're together, alone… she's not. There, I mean... mentally. She's definitely not happy." It feels good to lay it all out on the line, Jason realizes. "But thanks, dude." Jason pauses. "Are you ready to make her happy again?" he asks Percy.

Percy looks at him with a torn expression on his face. Jason knows the feeling well.

"When I woke up on a bus in the middle of the Grand Canyon," Jason begins, "the Mist provided feelings for the people around me that I assumed to be real. This girl, Piper…" Jason grins harshly in remembrance. "She's the daughter of Aphrodite that spoke to you Romans when you arrived. She's pretty incredible, too. But the Mist—it made me think we were… together." Percy nods knowingly.

"There's a girl that came with me," Percy starts. "Gwen. Well… let's just say, the Mist did a number on me, too."  
They return to watching Annabeth knock the stuffing out of Malcolm.

"Me and her?" Percy asks once again, almost in shock at his past luck. Jason lets out a small chuckle.

"Yep," Jason assures, his voice full of false bravado.

"Damn," Percy says, impressed.

* * *

They decide who the boat's passengers will be after weeks of heated arguing: Jason, Piper, and Leo all had spots before the Romans even arrived in New York, but that left four more spots. One of the spots Jason had previously offered to Annabeth, so the number dropped to three. The Romans remain disgruntled at the three to one ratio, but were somewhat calmed when Chiron pleasantly reminded them that Jason _was_ technically a _Castra_ camper.

_Percy goes,_ Lupa demands when the time came for selection from the Roman side. No one objected.

"I would like to put my name in for consideration," Gwen says, eyes darting to her fellow Romans.

"As would I," Reyna adds. "I'm prepared to die with honor in battle. Are you?" Reyna directs the question at Annabeth, who doesn't deign her with a response.

"As… quaint as it is to see the women step up," Derek says, clearing his throat, "I think that the choice is clear: I need to be in the convoy."

Percy glances at Derek with a look that Annabeth can tell holds a significant amount of contempt. Gritting his teeth, however, Percy agrees with Derek. "Derek should come. He's an excellent fighter and strategist. He can hold his own." Percy says his last sentence while looking Gwen in the eye; she inhales sharply and then backs off mysteriously.

"I believe Derek to be a better contender than I for the quest," Gwen mutters. "May I be excused?"

Gwen leaves before Percy can get another word in edgewise. Percy sighs and turns to Annabeth.

"Gwen was on a quest a couple years ago with this kid named Jack London," Percy tells Annabeth in a low voice. "He got eaten by some Cyclopes in Detroit. Gwen never really trusted herself after that. It's a pity, because she's got tremendous potential…" Percy looks genuinely sorry that Gwen will not be joining them for the quest. Annabeth feels a guilty pleasure at the evening's turn of events, in spite of her dislike of Derek.

"So we have our players," Chiron says, turning to Rachel, who sits at the head of the table in quiet contemplation. "From Camp Half-Blood, we have Piper, Leo, and Annabeth. From the _Castra_, we have Reyna and Derek. And from… the in between, let's say? We have Jason and Percy. You leave in three weeks, on the solstice."

* * *

Jason and Annabeth are walking back toward Cabin One when they hear the fighting. Annabeth is the first to react, starting at a run while Jason practically stumbles over a tree root in pursuit. Little scuffles have been happening all over camp since the Roman campers arrived: a son of Mercury thinks that a daughter of Hecate cheated at cards, and half a dozen kids are fighting each other in the middle of the quad. Unfortunately, instead of throwing sticks and stones, because of the nature of Camp Half-Blood, campers have taken to raiding the armory for weapons to use. The worst had happened when a son of Mars had shoved a spear through a son of Apollo's thigh: Lupa stepped in and declared the camp a DMZ, warning the campers that she would be the one to dole out punishments in the future for in-fighting. The head counselors had since taken it upon themselves to try and break up the fights that did crop up.

Annabeth and Jason screech to a halt in front of a group of what looks to be Aphrodite children and… children of _Mars_? Jason's eyes widen in shock: Aphrodite and Ares were known for their eons long affair behind Hephaestus's back. It is more than a little shocking to see their children duke it out.

"Oh, perfect," says a horribly familiar voice: Reyna. "Now you can see the damage you've caused."

"Shut up," says another horribly familiar voice: Piper. Jason wishes he could disappear.

"Jason," Annabeth murmurs in his ear. "Please tell me this isn't what I think it is."

"If you're thinking that this is a _lover's quarrel_, I really hope it's not," Jason says, a deep blush reddening his cheeks in an absurdly adorable way. Annabeth smiles sweetly at him, briefly forgetting their surroundings.

Reyna gags in the background.

"Well, it figures that neither of us would get him in the end," she announces to the group of warring teens. "Well played, daughter of Athena. Well played."

"Annabeth," Piper calls out, letting her dagger fall to her side. "Are you—are you really with him?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Annabeth says reflexively. Jason flinches as if she'd physically slapped him.

"Don't be ridiculous, of course we're not together? Or, don't be ridiculous, of course we're together, haven't you seen us hanging all over each other for the past three months?" Piper asks coolly. Annabeth opens and closes her mouth before addressing the group as a whole.

"If I catch you fighting again, for _whatever_ reason, I'm bringing you to Lupa," she announces. "Enough's enough. We're at war, kids. We don't need to injure our soldiers in advance. I'm sure the giants and the Earthborn and all the other horrible things that want to kill us will do the job well enough."

Annabeth walks away from the sobered campers with a scowl on her face.

* * *

"I hear you broke up quite the outburst yesterday," an amused voice says from behind. "How eventful."

"I know you're jealous," Annabeth grins as Percy sits down next to her. "I got real sassy with them." The Dionysus cabin is going over supplies for the voyage, and Annabeth is overseeing them (read: making sure they pack more than merely enough barrels of wine to get an elephant drunk)… or, she _was_ overseeing them. Now? Now she is flirting with her former boyfriend. Go figure.

"A shame I had to miss that," Percy grins mirthfully. He looks down at her—how that boy had managed to grow another couple inches while Annabeth would never know—and in a single glance, Annabeth knew that he knew.

"So who told you?" Annabeth asks nonchalantly, though she can feel herself tingling with excitement: _maybe he remembers, maybe he remembers_.

The answer is far less exciting: "Jason told me," Percy admits, embarrassed.

Annabeth feels her eyes fill with unbidden tears; blaming her hormones, she curses herself silently for crying so much in these past few months. "Does crying make it better?" her dad had once asked her after a playmate had smashed a Lego city Annabeth had created. Annabeth had shaken her head from side to side at the time. "Then why do it at all?" That had been her mantra for years: if it doesn't help, don't do it. But the tears come in spite of all logic, in spite of reason.

"Do you remember… anything?" she asks softly, eyes averted.

"I remember a Minotaur," he says quietly. Annabeth feels the tension between them rise. "I haven't told anyone besides you about that."

"You battled the Minotaur when you first came to Camp Half-Blood," Annabeth muses, remembering the battered eleven-year-old she had nursed back to health. "It's a start."

"There are other things, too," Percy adds, keen to keep her attention. "Lots of blue. And I think I remember my mom. Sally, I think. I get these bits and pieces…more since we came here. Since I moved into the Poseidon cabin."

Annabeth nods. "What about… us?" she asks, hoping for one answer but expecting another.

"I'm sorry," Percy says in a pained voice. "I wish I could tell you something different, but that would be a lie. Something about you tells me you wouldn't appreciate that." He smiles a sad half-smile, shuffling a little closer to her. "There's nothing fair about what happened to us, Annabeth." He punctuates his sentence by touching her cheek with the back of his hand. "But if I never remembered anything about our past together… Would you be willing to start again?"

Annabeth inhales Percy's scent: he's so close to her she can nearly taste him.

"I loved you so much Percy," Annabeth sighs, melting into his touch, "that I don't know if starting over will make me whole again or rip me apart."

* * *

Jason is asleep when the camp security system goes off: it consists of a protective field that Leo installed after a couple of monsters had gotten past the magical border and nearly eaten a young girl from the Hermes cabin. Jason has only ever heard it go off during regularly scheduled tests, but now, at four thirty in the morning, Jason is about ninety-nine percent sure that this is not a test… and the other one percent is ready to kick Leo's ass if it is. Sirens inside Cabin One blare incessantly as Annabeth springs up from her bed.

"Intruders?" she asks, flinging on shoes as Jason quickly arms himself.

"Dunno," he mutters, "but let's go and find out."

They both run out of the cabin and manage to nearly collide with Percy Jackson, who looks alert and ready for a fight, even though the hair on the back of his head is standing straight up. Annabeth rolls her eyes at Percy before bolting, leaving the two boys running in her wake.

There are a few people gathered near the forest when Jason, Percy, and Annabeth arrive. Clarisse has her electric spear pointed into the darkness before them. It crackles menacingly in the hushed quiet, and Jason finds himself glad that it's not pointed at _him_.

"What is it?" Annabeth breathes, directing her question at Clarisse, who shakes her head, just nodding toward the forest.

Jason can dimly see a shadow moving towards them. Drawing his sword, Jason looks over at Percy and sees that he's done the same with Riptide. Annabeth, daggers gleaming in the moonlight, steps forward, ready to attack.

When the figure at last stumbles into the clearing, Annabeth drops her blades.

"_Luke_?" she gasps. A tall, blonde haired boy steps unsteadily into the moonlit grass before them. He looks terrible: his left eye is blackened, as if someone had recently sucker-punched him. He has cuts all over his forearms, and his orange t-shirt has a blood stain on its side, as if he'd been stabbed.

"Heard you guys are starting a war," Luke breathes. "Can I enlist?"

Luke manages one more staggering step forward before falling flat on his face, as though he'd just been knocked out cold.

"Shot not carrying _that_ back to the Big House," Clarisse declares, putting a hand on her nose. Annabeth gives Clarisse a quizzical look.

"'That'?" she asks.

Clarisse shrugs her shoulders and begins the trek back. "You know as well as I do that that's not the Luke who died last summer," she says without looking backwards. "Look at his face."

Annabeth kneels at Luke's head, which is face down in the grass. Turning it sideways, she lets out a small gasp.

"What is it, Annabeth?" Jason asks, confused.

"The scar," Annabeth murmurs, still holding Luke's unconscious head in her hands. She presses her fingers across the young man's forehead and then down, across his eye and to his cheek, as if she expected to feel something abnormal beneath her fingertips. "It's gone."

* * *

"This is most troubling," Chiron grumbles, glancing at the demigods gathered around him. Luke had been sequestered in the basement of the big house, guarded by Argus, the head of Camp Half-Blood's security. The sun has just risen over the Long Island Sound, but everyone in the room has long been wide awake.

"Is it him, Chiron?" Annabeth asks. "He doesn't have the scar anymore."

"Oh, it's Luke Castellan, alright," Chiron answers. Annabeth lets out an audible sigh of relief.

"I'm confused," Jason announces. "Who _is_ this guy?" he asks, directing his question to Chiron.

"Luke Castellan was a counselor here at Camp Half-Blood for many years," Chiron says sadly. "He came to camp with Annabeth and your sister, Thalia. There was… an attack. Thalia sacrificed herself to save Luke and Annabeth. She was, for a few years, turned into a tree as a repercussion of her sacrifice."

Jason stares at Chiron blankly. "Turned into a _what?_"

"Four years ago, Clarisse laid the Golden Fleece upon the tree, and Thalia was transformed back into a girl," Chiron continues, ignoring Jason's outburst. "But back to Luke. He trained rigorously here at camp, determined to earn his father's approval."

"He's a son of Hermes," Percy breathes. Everyone freezes.

"You remember?" Annabeth asks.

"He was the best swordsman at camp," Percy continues. "He had this sword—Backbiter." Percy's eyes narrow. "He _betrayed_ us." Now Percy turns to Chiron, ablaze with emotion. "So why haven't we had him hanged, drawn, and quartered yet?"

"Percy," Annabeth starts, but Percy interrupts her.

"Luke allowed Kronos to rise," Percy growls. "He _captured you_, Annabeth." Jason watches as the memories seem to flood through Percy—years of moments connected with one person: Luke Castellan. "Beckendorf and Silena are _dead_ because of him. So many are dead because of him. And _Thalia_—"

Jason's ears perk up again at the sound of his sister's name. A sinking feeling in his stomach signals that perhaps Thalia's relationship with Luke hadn't been strictly platonic. When Luke had turned evil, well… Jason could only imagine the grief she must have felt, after losing everyone else that she'd ever cared for. No wonder she'd joined the Hunters.

Jason can feel rage boiling inside his chest—a fraternal protectiveness that strikes him as a bizarre novelty.

"He died a _hero_," Annabeth growls in Luke's defense. "He stabbed himself in Kronos' weak spot. He _saved_ us, Percy. Don't you remember that?"

Percy's silence is answer enough.

"Trust me, then," Chiron interrupts, "Luke _did_ die a hero."

"If he's so dead," Clarisse drawls, "then how is he, you know, _in our basement_."

"I have a few theories," Chiron replies.

"Care to share?" Clarisse prods.

"It all goes back to the Great Prophecy," Chiron begins, pressing the tips of his fingers together. "The 'Doors of Death' have been opened. You saw this on your quest, Jason, with your encounters with Medea and King Midas. Luke, it seems to me, has broken free from the Underworld to join the battle."

"But what about the scar?" Annabeth asks.

"My guess is only a guess," Chiron sighs, "but I believe that Luke's form, once in the Underworld, was not the one he died with. I believe," he says, looking toward the dark haired boy in the corner of the room, "that he kept the form he believed in most. The body he had before he went on his quest. Before he was scarred."

Jason turned his head toward Nico, who had remained characteristically silent throughout the morning's proceedings.

"It happens," Nico admits to the group. "For most of the dead, they see themselves as the image they die with, and thus their spirits manifest themselves accordingly. Some never give up on the unmarred nature of their youth. Luke must never have truly accepted his scar."

"I'm a little lost," Percy admits.

"It means that Luke's come back in the body he desired so desperately during his brief time on earth after his first and final quest," Chiron explains. "And that means that his body is around the age of seventeen."

"And his mind?" Annabeth murmurs.

"I cannot say anything until I speak with him," Chiron tells her gently. "Which is why I must ask that you all leave now." Chiron walks away from the group of troubled demigods towards the basement door.

"I don't like this," Clarisse hisses. Jason and Percy glance at each other, signaling a mutual distrust. Nico looks disgruntled, as Luke's appearance desecrates his father's power even more than the Romans had by dismissing him as part of the Big Three. Annabeth merely sits down in a chair and breathes.

* * *

A small group of Hunters arrive two days after Luke's reappearance. Thalia leads them.

"Where is he," she demands, approaching Annabeth in the middle of campus. "_Where. Is. He?_"

"Thalia," Annabeth gasps. "I sent you that Iris Message yesterday afternoon, how did you get here so quickly—you said you were in_Utah_—"

"Annabeth, so help me gods, if you don't tell me where he is in the next five seconds…" Thalia growls menacingly.

Annabeth shudders at the glint in the Hunter's eye.

"He's by your tree," she says. Thalia turns on the spot and starts marching toward Half-Blood Hill, Annabeth trailing behind her.

"You!" Thalia shouts, pointing to the figure standing at the top of the hill. "Luke Castellan, when I get my hands on you, you're gonna wish you were still dead!"

That last remark certainly gets quite a few people's attention: a small crowd begins to gather at the foot of the hill. From amongst them, Jason emerges, radiating intense anger similar to his sister's. Behind him are Percy and Nico, who, likewise, look rather ticked off : the deluge of blame has begun. They all reach the top quickly, surrounding Luke in a semi-circle. Slowly other campers begin to creep up the hill—Roman and Greek alike—until the crowd is fully formed around them. The showdown begins.

"Guys," Annabeth pleads. "He's been through _enough_—"

"Stop, Annabeth," Luke says quietly. His eyes are glued to Thalia, who seems to radiate rage and frustration like it's her job.

"You have _no idea_ what I've been through," Thalia seethes. "First, I'm a tree. I _sacrifice_ myself to save your sorry ass, and then—oh boy, does it get better. You _betray us_? Betray _me_?" Thalia draws her bow, cocks an arrow, and aims it straight at Luke's heart. "I should kill you right now."

"Do it," he says softly. "I deserve it. Kill me. Send me back."

Thalia closes one eye, as if to aim more precisely, and then slackens her grip on the bow in defeat. "I can't," she murmurs. Jason steps forward now, as do Nico and Percy.

"Well I damn well can," Jason says, sword pointed straight at Luke's heart.

"Who the hell are you?" Luke breathes, eyes wide with confusion.

"Jason Grace, Thalia's brother, son of Jupiter, here to send you back to Hell," Jason rattles off.

"Hades," Nico corrects. "Back to _Hades_."

"Whatever," Jason says, his confidence faltering a little.

"You've got a _brother_?" Luke asks Thalia. She nods curtly. "Seems like I've missed a lot." Luke and Thalia lock eyes for a brief moment, but the glance is electric, like a lightning strike.

"You look younger," Thalia breathes.

"You look immortal," Luke replies.

"Comes with the gig," she laughs, but Annabeth doesn't detect any humor in her voice. "I became a Hunter of Artemis after—well." Thalia pauses, as if to underline something left unsaid. "I took an oath."

Annabeth hears the sorrow in Thalia's voice. Luke looks like he wants to hold her, but Jason's sword prevents him from moving anywhere.

"You betrayed us once before," Percy murmurs, stepping forward. "How do we know you won't do it again?"

"I stabbed myself to save you ungrateful lot," Luke laughs. "Does _no one remember_ my final heroic act?" He says the words ironically, as if convinced that there is no connection between him and heroism anymore.

"Guys," Annabeth says slowly. "We can't just preemptively kill him. He deserves a chance."

"We need to know if he's telling the truth," Nico suggests.

"I think I can help you there," says a voice from the crowd: Will Solace steps forward.

"Will?" Annabeth says inquisitively. "What do you mean?"

"Well, my dad, you know," Will says, blushing a bit. "Apollo's the god of truth. He can't tell a lie. And well, I can tell when people are lying. Just—this feeling, I guess. Started happening after the battle with the Titans last summer."

"I grew up with a pet cat," Annabeth tries.

"Lie," Will replies. Annabeth raises her eyebrows in appreciation.

"It was a dog," she admits.

"I slaughtered a manticore last weekend," Thalia tries.

"True," Will says, eyes wide. "_Whoa._ That's awesome."

"I defeated Krios," Jason murmurs.

"True," Will says.

"_Wicked_," Nico grins. "That's some trick, Will." A hush quiets the crowd.

"I will never betray you again," Luke says solemnly, addressing them all.

"True," Will says with a smile.

"So that's that," Annabeth smiles, looking around at Jason, Percy, Nico, and Thalia. Annabeth feels her stomach settle around her knees as she realizes that no—it's just the beginning. Luke would have to earn their trust back.

"Alright, show's over," Nico calls out to the crowd. "Get back to what you're supposed to be doing before I set Mrs. O'Leary on you."

* * *

"Annabeth, wait up!" a voice calls out from behind her. Annabeth is feet away from boarding the Argo II, but she recognizes the voice easily above the din of her surroundings. Turning swiftly, she sees Rachel Elizabeth Dare running toward her, red hair flying in the wind. Annabeth gives her rucksack to Jason, who looks amused at the sight of their beloved oracle, out for a jog.

"I wanted to see you off," Rachel wheezes breathlessly upon arrival. Annabeth laughs at Rachel's disheveled state, and Rachel pouts.

"I hoped I'd get to see you before we left; I'll be just a minute, Jason, make sure they don't leave without me," Annabeth laughs, waving him onwards. Once he's out of sight, a strange glint flickers in her eye.

"So," Rachel says awkwardly. "You and Jason."

Annabeth raises an eyebrow, certain that she knows where this conversation is headed. "You too, Rachel? I really don't need this right now—"

"Hear me out, Annabeth, because I really do think this is something that you need right now," Rachel says, parroting back Annabeth's words. "After weeks, months of searching for Percy Jackson, and after years of knowing him, of loving him… you just let it go? I find that hard to believe."

"Rachel, that's not how it is," Annabeth says defensively.

"Well, that's how it seems to everybody else, Annabeth, so if you'd like to clue me in, I'd be obliged," Rachel says in exasperation.

"Every second I spend with Percy breaks my heart, Rachel," Annabeth replies bitterly. "Every moment that he doesn't remember _us_, every day that he looks over me like I'm _nothing_ to him—it hurts too much." She hugs herself, trying to hold her composure. "Being with Jason is easy."

"But you love Percy," Rachel says, trying to put the pieces together.

"Always," she says in a hurt voice. "But Jason—being with him doesn't hurt. Well, usually."

Rachel looks conflicted for a moment, then takes both of Annabeth's hands in her own, keeping a tight grip upon them as if tethering her to reality, an action for which Annabeth is grateful.

"Sometimes we have to choose between what is right, and what is easy," Rachel tells her gravely.

"Isn't that from Harry Potter?" Annabeth laughs, but deep down, in the pit of her stomach, she knows truth when she hears it.

"Even boy wizards get it right sometimes," Rachel smiles, letting Annabeth go.

"Wait," Rachel calls out to Annabeth. Annabeth puts both feet on deck and looks down at Rachel expectantly. "Have you seen Luke? Chiron's looking for him."

"Haven't seen him since yesterday," Annabeth calls back, confused. Rachel shrugs and waves a final farewell before the boat begins its journey toward the open sea.

* * *

The _Argo II_ is magnificent beyond words, though Leo takes his time explaining the minutia to anyone who'll give him a moment of their time.

"The bunks are in the heart of the ship," Leo tells them as they climb down from the deck. "Pretty freaking sweet, if I do say so myself."

Annabeth has to restrain herself from gasping and inflating Leo's ego even more than it already is, but the setup _is_ pretty glorious. Seven hammocks hang from the ceiling, each embossed with the insignia of each demigod's divine parentage: Annabeth can spy her hammock, with a grey eyed owl, in between a hammocks with a blue trident upon it and a hammock with a lightning bolt striking a tree.

_Perfect,_ she groans inwardly, shooting an icy glare at Leo.

Beyond that hiccup, the rest of the room was extravagant: an armory lines the right wall, covered entirely with a variety of weapons that made even Derek drop his jaw in awe.

"Wicked," Derek remarks in praise to Leo, clapping a strong hand on his shoulder.

There are too many other innovations to take in at once: a pool table in the corner has the boys occupied for awhile, and Annabeth finds herself quite taken with the selection of maps depicting the Greek terrain they'll be questing through. Reyna and Derek browse the weapons immediately, trying to get first pick. Percy looks at the weapons and then down at Riptide, clearly content with his blade. Jason too looks relieved not to have to go up against Reyna or Derek for the better weapon, as the sword Juno gifted him hangs on a hook by his hammock. After perusing the ship for a few more minutes, the seven of them return to the deck of the ship. Chiron breaks a bottle of champagne against the hull of the boat before they set off.

"May the winds and waves be ever in your favor!" Chiron calls out to them as the ship leaves port. Annabeth can faintly see Nico standing in the shadows, waving at her, as if to say _I'll see you soon_. With his shadow traveling abilities, Annabeth is certain that she'd be seeing him in Greece.


	3. Part 3

The ship has long since lost sight of Long Island, and cruising at what Percy tells her is sixty knots per hour, Annabeth can feel the wind whip past them as they hurtle across the Atlantic. Every so often, the wind dies down around her, giving her a small break respite from the tumultuous gusts that surround the boat; in those moments, Annabeth knows Jason is manipulating the winds for her, and she'll give him a small smile or a pat on the back. She doesn't really know how to handle herself around both Percy _and_ Jason. Both boys give her looks that warm Annabeth's heart and crush it simultaneously. She feels like the butt of some cruel joke, where her broken heart is the punch line and the gods are having some sort of riotous game of who-can-make-Annabeth's-life-suck-_more_.

But with seven demigods on a boat with a dragon's head attached to its hull that Leo occasionally feeds when he thinks no one is looking, monsters were bound to show up sooner or later. Annabeth had hoped, though, that the Sirens would come later, rather than sooner.

"_Boys_," she growls, tying a drooling Derek to the mast. Piper groans as Jason attempts to resist her, reaching out toward the sharp-toothed sea creatures on the prow of the vessel.

"Gods damn it, Jason," she says, putting as much power into her voice as she could manage, "would you _hold still_?" Even Annabeth doesn't dare move a muscle for a moment, and she hadn't caught the brunt of Piper's words: Jason stops struggling immediately, and Piper binds him perfunctorily next to Derek. The Sirens cry out unhappily as half of their quarry is hefted out of their grasping claws.

Percy is less lucky. He's about to plant a wet one on a particularly horrible looking Siren at the prow of the ship when Annabeth hurls him backward onto the deck of the ship. Unfortunately in the struggle, she manages to fall right on top of him, landing a knee right in the son of Poseidon's side.

"My spleen," Percy groans, though Annabeth knows that the curse of Achilles shouldn't let him feel much, if any, pain at all. "Annabeth… pretty girl over there… needs saving. I'm doing the saving now." Annabeth doesn't exactly know what Percy's going on about, but he's got a gooey look in his eye that is absolutely inappropriate for monster fights. She hands Percy off to Reyna and faces the Siren one-on-one.

"You're not welcome here," Annabeth shouts at the watery creature. "Now eat celestial bronze!" She stabs the Siren in the throat, effectively cutting off its power of song.

"Annabeth—they've got Leo!" Piper shrieks. In her periphery a dark haired boy is lugged over the side of the boat. Reyna is already on the move, but Annabeth is closest. Taking a deep breath, Annabeth plunges into the icy cold of the ocean, sword pointed at the Siren's throat.

"Daughter of Athena," the Siren hisses at her. "You've got the two you truly desire… why don't you leave one for us girls? We so rarely get demigod flesh."

"He doesn't belong to you," Annabeth growls, attempting to stab the Siren—but in the water, the thrusting motion is extraordinarily difficult.

"Duck, Annabeth!" Reyna shouts from above. Annabeth barely has time to push herself under water when a celestial bronze harpoon takes out the last Siren, leaving Leo alive, albeit unconscious.

"The idiots _insist_on hearing the Siren's song for themselves," Reyna growls as she hauls Annabeth and Leo up with Piper. "I swear, I am going to rip them all a new one when they come to."

Annabeth lets out a long laugh. "Count me in," she grins, popping out the wax earplugs. Reyna and Piper rip theirs out too, both amused at their predicament. For a moment, all three girls are silent, unsure what to do now that their common goal has been accomplished.

"Let's leave them tied up for a while," Annabeth suggest to the girls conspiratorially. "I think I saw some donuts downstairs that Derek has been hoarding."

"Dibs on the chocolate frosting!" Reyna laughs, racing down the steps; Annabeth and Piper follow after her, reveling in their newfound comradery.

A few minutes later, Percy comes to.

"Guys?" he calls out meekly. "I think the Sirens are gone."

"Sorry, what was that?" Annabeth calls out from downstairs. "I can't hear you over the sound of your own stupid, wafting toward me."

"Untie us!" Derek demands upon his awakening.

"This chocolate donut sure is delicious," Reyna says loudly. "Good thing Derek's not awake right now, or he'd sure be mad."

The girls laugh uproariously together. Annabeth feels her heart soar as the_ Argo II_hurtles on toward their final destination, finally able to enjoy a donut in the company of new friends.

The deck is quiet now as the _Argo II _glides over calm seas under a full moon and a starry sky. Most of the demigods are below, tucked into their hammocks, dreaming about Sirens and Tabasco sauce and forgotten memories. Annabeth leans her elbows on the railing before her, leaning out beyond the nose of the ship. The wind pushes her blonde hair off her face, and she watches the horizon.

Jason comes up behind her wordlessly. She sees the outline of his arm in her periphery, flinches, then relaxes. They say nothing for a few minutes, just stand together, Jason's warmth behind Annabeth just close enough to revel in. They do not touch.

"I thought it would be different," Annabeth finally says into the dark nothingness of sea before them. "When Percy returned. I mean, no. I didn't think it would be different. I thought things could go _back_to how they used to be."

"So you wanted things to be the same," Jason muses.

"I wanted a good thing back," Annabeth says, sudden fury behind her words. "Percy was a _good thing_for me, Jason. I don't know if you realize that."

"I do," Jason recognizes unhappily. He slides his hand along the railing until it nearly touches Annabeth's own clenched fingers. "But you know what, Annabeth?"

Jason steps in closer, pressing Annabeth's back against his chest. She shudders, and Jason finds himself pleased.

"I could be a good thing for you, too," Jason offers. Annabeth lets out a shattered breath, pressing the back of her neck against Jason, turning her head slightly to look up at the son of Zeus in the dark. "A great thing, maybe."

He's about to lean in and kiss her when he notices her wet cheeks and reddened eyes. Annabeth had been crying throughout their entire conversation and Jason had remained unaware of her tears until just then. He balks and turns his head away. This is not how he wants their first kiss to be.

A stab of fiery jealousy shoots through Jason and he welcomes it as Annabeth pushes him back.

"If there's one thing I know about you, Jason Grace," Annabeth sighs, "it's that you are definitely a great thing."

She grazes her knuckles up and down his arm, giving Jason goose bumps, then leaves for what little sleep she can muster.

Jason sees them holding hands the next day in the early morning, Annabeth with a smile on her face that could light up Vegas and Percy with the twinkle of a smirk in his eyes. Jason restrains himself from interrupting their moment, simply distracts himself with the five thousand other things the demigods had to do before landing in Greece. Still, with every trivial activity (sharpening swords, going over tactics with Derek), Jason's mind is filled with those two hands, clasping at each other like a lifeline to this world.

Jason finds that he doesn't like his new, near constant state of envy. He considers the idea that this new person he's become is hardly like the person he's always wanted to be. Jason Grace, son of Jupiter, is no loser.

And yet Annabeth continues to ignore him, save a few emotional looks throughout the day and some casual jokes prodded in his direction (for his enjoyment, Jason thinks derisively).

"You okay there, buddy?" Leo asks Jason after a significantly strong gust of wind knocks his tools into a scattered array on the deck. Jason picks up Leo's wrench and hands it back to the shorter demigod. His hand comes away sticky with a dark liquid that looks as horrible as it smells.

"Tell me what exactly this is?" Jason asks, holding up his dirty hand to Leo. Leo gives Jason a weak smile.

"Trying to mix a new concoction for Festus," Leo sighs. "We're low on Tabasco sauce, so I'm trying to find a substitute. Unsuccessfully, I might add."

Jason looks down at his hand for a long moment, then lets out a long, mirthful laugh. It feels good and rings throughout the deck. Leo shrugs his shoulders as if to say "Who, me?" and Jason palms Leo's cheek, smudging Leo's face with the dark red substance.

Leo ducks his head to collect the rest of his tools, and a slight pink reddens his cheeks as Jason floats down to the surface of the ocean to wash his hand off in the brisk waves.

Derek is the one to answer the Iris Message, and he calls them all below deck with a succinct bellow. The Iris Message is contained in a large golden bowl that had once been used on Olympus for the tree nymphs to drink from. It is decorated with various feats of Hermes, and the rim is inlaid with various jewels. One of the Stoll brothers had snatched it during some of Annabeth's construction after the last battle. Annabeth hadn't had the heart to return it to the horrible nymphs who had been such a pain in her backside throughout most of her time at Mt. Olympus.

"Hello, young demigods," Chiron greets soberly. Annabeth takes lead quickly, snatching the bowl of water from Derek, who glares at her unhappily and with deep loathing. Percy shoots Derek a look, and Derek crosses his arms in front of his chest and goes to sit next to Reyna, who rolls her eyes at the blonde daughter of Athena with distaste.

"What's going on, Chiron?" Annabeth asks the bowl quickly.

"While you were away, Rachel had another prophecy," Chiron says gravely. "The final battle against the giants and Gaea herself is to take place in Greece. Both the Roman campers and the campers from Half-Blood Hill are preparing to follow you across the Atlantic."

"That sounds like an oddly specific prophecy, Chiron," Annabeth says after a moment of tense silence.

"I merely offer my best interpretation of Rachel's words," Chiron says with a shrug. "We don't have time to build another ship, so we will all make the trip by plane."

Percy shudders slightly next to Annabeth. "I'm sure that plan is going over great with the Lord of the Sky," Percy mutters. Jason glares at Percy but says nothing, for the son of Poseidon had a point: Jupiter would not be pleased with hundreds of demigods invading his domain.

"What do you mean, we don't have time?" Reyna asks.

"Luke has proved useful in his return," Chiron says. He waves a large hand and a familiar face enters the picture.

"Luke," Annabeth breathes.

"Howdy, folks," he grins, but there is no laughter or joy behind the smile. "I've got a pretty accurate network of informants, and they say that Gaea will make her move in three days."

"Where are you getting this information from?" Piper asks coolly.

"How long do you think it takes someone to walk out of the Underworld, little girl," Luke spits at her. Annabeth recoils from his angry visage. "Let's just say that along the way, I made a few friends. Significantly more enemies, but that's really not of your concern, is it?" He glares at Piper, who remains silently stoic.

"Enough, children," Chiron sighs. "Fighting amongst ourselves is just what Gaea wants. Percy, how far are you from the destined port?"

"We can make it there in under a day, without any interruptions," Percy says immediately.

"And since when do demigods ever get anywhere on time?" Chiron laughs. "I can guess you will be running into trouble soon enough. Plan on arriving in under a day, but expect at least two. We'll meet you there. The fight will occur as the solstice wanes, demigods. Prepare yourselves."

Annabeth's arms and legs burn with the force of exertion it takes to grip the giant serpent beneath her. The salty ocean spray stings the open cuts on the back of her hands, across her knuckles from when the monster had knocked her halfway across the deck of the _Argo II_. A golden bow is slung over her back, but the silver sheath that accompanied it is now deep in the serpent's belly.

"Percy!" she screams. "Any time now!"

Percy is about ten feet ahead of her, throwing what look suspiciously like water javelins at the creature's head: one of the attacks strikes the serpent in the eye. The monster roars and jerks beneath Annabeth, who, after a few rough lurches manages to hang on to the beast. She reaches down to her ankle and pulls out a substantial blade. Shuffling down the serpent's neck, she uses her knife to ground her, stabbing the creature in an effort to keep her stable. A ball of fire zooms over her head, hitting the snake in the ear. Annabeth can hear Leo whooping in the background, but she doesn't let herself get distracted. A figure hurtles past her, and Annabeth's neck whips around in an attempt to see who now had joined the fray.

Derek, swords strapped across his torso like a demigod Rambo, is held aloft by a wave that can only be Percy's doing.

"I figured you'd want to stay above surface level," Percy yells over the tumult.

"You know, a swim about now might be quite nice," Derek taunts back, swinging an ax into the gaping mouth of the serpent. The creature screams as the ax lodges itself into a crevasse between two of its long, white fangs. Percy and Derek work as a team, alternating attacks and varying their weapons. A multitude of swords, axes, and shields fly into the serpent's belly and into the ocean's depths. The constant dual attack, is, however, working: the serpent slows down and recoils from Derek and Percy. They high five with their respective weapons.

Annabeth rolls her eyes. _Boys._

She continues her ascent up the monster's back, now holding onto the spiny blue spikes that adorn the nape of the serpent's neck and funnel into a crest at the peak of the its skull. Annabeth turns back to the _Argo II_to take in the situation.

Reyna is unconscious with Piper by her side across the deck. Jason and Leo stand together firing cannons at the snake: Leo shoots the ammo with poor aim due to the choppy seas, and Jason readjusts each shot using a wind tunnel so that they all hit the serpent where it hurts.

"Jason!" she screams when she reaches the creature's head. "We need lightning!"

"Too dangerous!" Jason shouts back. "You're all in the _water_! It'll kill you, Percy, and Derek!"

Annabeth takes her knife and stabs the serpent in the right eye. A screaming hiss erupts from the serpent's mouth, and both Percy and Derek are knocked under water by the serpent's tail. Annabeth hurls her knife into her left hand and stabs the serpent's left eye, feeling the eye matter squelch beneath her hand. Another scream, and the monster has been rendered blind.

"Jason, it's now or never!" Annabeth shouts, jumping off the snake and into the water. A rough hand grabs the back of her shirt, and Annabeth sees a figure through the murky water that could only be Percy carrying a limp Derek over his shoulder. Salt water goes up Annabeth's nose as she is dragged out of the water and back onto the deck of the ship. Jason hovers above Annabeth, who coughs up the words, "Zap—it!"

Jason hops onto the railing of the ship and Annabeth can see dark clouds gathering above them.

"Percy, get him out of there," Jason yells, arms up in the air, palms pressed together as if in prayer. Jason's eyes are closed for a long moment, and the air crackles with electricity.

Percy drags himself aboard and turns to drag Derek on deck as well. Annabeth crawls toward Percy, exhaustion and adrenaline battling for supremacy in her body. She claws her way to Percy, and the two of them begin pulling Derek up from the water.

"Is he clear?" Jason asks, eyes focused completely on the clouds above them. Annabeth and Percy continue pulling at Derek in vain. "_Is he clear?_" he shouts again, strain in his voice.

"Just go, Jason!" Annabeth screams, pulling twice as hard at Derek, whose sodden jeans have gotten stuck on something sharp just beyond sight.

It all happens in quick succession: the serpent strikes at Derek, Percy, and Annabeth, mouth wide; the lightning strikes the monster square in the back of the neck; and Jason collapses on deck from pure fatigue.

Annabeth vaguely realizes that the clouds above them dissipate quickly once Jason has fallen to the ground. Percy's hand grips Annabeth's wrist tightly, and Annabeth feels herself shake beneath his fingertips. Her mouth drops open slightly, and she allows herself a moment of frozen horror.

Before them is Derek, now fully on deck, missing the majority of his right leg. Deep red blood gushes from the wound, coating the ground and dripping off the deck grotesquely.

"No," Annabeth grunts, scrambling at last and pouncing on Derek's stump, attempting to stop the bleed. "NO!"

"Just keep pressure on it," Percy says, but his voice shakes slightly. He clears his throat and keeps his voice calm. "Chiron will know what to do. Leo is going to call him now. Just keep your hands there."

Percy presses his hands on top of Annabeth's, and quickly the blood seeps between both their fingertips and coats both their hands.

"What," Jason groans. Annabeth presses her head against Derek's chest: his heartbeat is slow, but its still there. "What's happening? Did—did we get it?"

"Yeah," Percy calls back. "We got it. Good job there, Jason." His voice is overly cheerful.

"Derek okay?" Jason asks, crawling toward Percy and Annabeth. Annabeth's lips press together. "Annabeth? Is he okay?"

"No," Annabeth replies at last, turning her head toward Jason, who sits on his heels, aghast.

Nico arrives minutes later. He takes one look at Derek and gulps.

"Okay, okay. Move," he orders, and Percy scoots backward, hands red and bright. Annabeth remains over Derek.

"I don't even _like_you," she growls, head bent low, mouth by Derek's ear. "But I swear to the gods, if you die, I will take it personally." She leans back and stands before Derek and Nico, creating a shadow. In a moment, Nico and Derek have shadow traveled away, and all that's left on deck is a purple-red bloodstain and a blue spine from the serpent's hide.

The next day, Nico returns, but not alone.

Percy's hand goes immediately to Riptide, and Annabeth's hand to her mouth. Jason had been in the middle of walking down the stairs, and he misses the last step in shock. Quickly, Jason is standing next to Percy, Juno's spear pointed at Luke as well.

"You need seven demigods on this ship," Nico says softly.

"Why does it have to be him?" Percy growls. Luke steps out from behind Nico with an apologetic look in his eye.

"Derek granted him his spot," Nico mutters. "Just before slipping into convenient unconsciousness."

"Next time your leg is severed, let me know how staying conscious goes," Reyna bites back. Her face is tear streaked and full of fury at the loss of the Castra camper.

"He wasn't in his right mind," Luke says slightly bitterly. "He thought it was someone else. Someone he used to know." Luke shrugs. "Guess I just have one of those faces?"

Percy doesn't even dignify Luke's joke with a response and simply stomps off to the upper deck in a huff.

"Let's get one thing clear," Jason says, taking three steps toward Luke so that his spear rests against Luke's throat. "I don't trust you, son of Hermes. So if you even _think_about betraying us, I will use you for target practice."

"You wouldn't want that," Leo pipes up. "Jason's bad at a lot of stuff, but hitting targets ain't one of them."

Luke's eyes narrow and he pushes the spear to the side and walks up and out of the lower deck. Jason lets out a breath and feels his bravado slipping from him. He turns to Annabeth, who has sat herself down next to Nico.

"We could really use you," she tells the son of Hades softly. "You have already earned our trust ten thousand times over. Luke is an asset, yes, but his road is uphill."

"I volunteered," Nico begins, then cuts himself off. "No. It's better that I not be here. I'll stay until Luke's settled, but then I have to go and regroup some skeleton armies in the Underworld. If you'd like to stand a chance against the giants, that is."

Annabeth nods. "Alright, go then. Feel free to stay here as long as you need to recover from the shadow traveling, and make sure to regroup with us once we get to Olympus."

"Aye, aye, captain," Nico says, saluting Annabeth with a grin.

A few hours have passed since Luke and Nico arrived on board. Nico settles himself into a seat across from Derek's empty hammock next to Leo, who is fiddling with a couple of screws and bolts. Leo doesn't even look down at his hands while they work with his penknife, twisting and unwinding various parts together and apart; instead, he stares ahead at the hammocks, unblinking.

"We haven't really had the chance to talk," Nico begins. Leo tilts his head to the side absently.

"Why do we need to talk?" Leo asks, turning over a screw in his hand over and over again.

"Enough." Nico snatches Leo's tools and glares at the younger boy. "Because I know what you're going through, gods help me. I helped Percy become who he was… before he lost all his memories. I watched him grow into a hero who turned down immortality for a normal life. Well, as normal as a demigod's life can be."

Leo's hands stop moving, and instead grip his thighs as if bracing for impact.

"I'm used to falling for people I can never have, Nico," Leo says lightly, but the look he gives Nico is fearful and grave.

"Join the club," Nico sighs.

Leo wants to run far away from this conversation. He's done with these feelings he's been having: all he needs is Festus and a project and he'll be fine. Good, even. He stands up and begins to walk away, but Leo feels Nico follow him up to the deck. Up top, the rest of the ship's inhabitants train and consult each other, as if being louder will fill the void that Derek left.

"So you've got a thing for Annabeth," Leo sighs, staring at the tall blonde from afar: she spars with Percy on the far end of the ship, swords flashing mercilessly. "Who on this damn ship doesn't?" he jokes.

Nico shrugs, and his eyes flick to Percy's form, almost dancing away from Annabeth's blade with Riptide roaring out toward her, tight in his grip.

"Oh. Oh." Leo runs a hand through his hair, a strange relief coursing through him.

"I know what you mean, man," Leo sighs. His eyes flick to Jason and Piper, who are arguing feverishly.

"Which one?" Nico asks softly.

Leo runs a hand through his hair, shifting his gaze to the sky above, at the blazing sun above the seven demigods.

"Does it matter?" Leo sighs. Nico grants him a sympathetic look, placing a hand on Leo's shoulder, because in all likelihood, it doesn't matter. Leo's cause is a lost one.

The son of Hephaestus's eyes water briefly, and the tears are roughly blinked away.

"Our lives," Leo growls, "just—_really_, they suck sometimes."

"More than sometimes," Nico says knowingly. "But it's not all bad."

"That's rich, coming from you," Leo says, narrowing his eyes at Nico, who blanches and backs away from Leo slowly.

"I'm trying to help you here, man," Nico starts, but Leo raises his hand.

"Don't need any help. Nothing to _be_helped. So shove off, alright?" Leo is below deck before Nico can say another word.

Nico pauses for a long moment, hands clenching and unclenching unconsciously. Then he steps into the shadow of the mast and disappears.

"Land ho!" Reyna's voice yells out from on deck. Annabeth hurtles herself up from below deck, Luke taking stairs two at a time right behind her. Percy, Jason, and Leo surround Reyna and Piper, and all of them are looking out at the green on the horizon. Nervous excitement bubbles in Annabeth's stomach: they have arrived in Greece at last. Luke glances at her, and she smiles at him: of all the demigods on the boat, Annabeth was the one gladdest to have him by her side. She knew what he was capable of, both the good and the evil. She had trusted him once, and though it was difficult to place trust in him once more, she considered him capable, and that was enough this time around.

They come to port in an hour and begin the long trek toward Mount Olympus, which lies in the distance, a small bump on the horizon. Leo ties down the ship at the shore, mournful to leave Festus behind, but from the beach they must make their way on foot. Each of the boys carries a compactable tent on his back, and the girls carry rations in their backpacks. Neither pack is light.

The hike goes on for hours, far beyond the dusky twilight into the early darkness of the evening, but no one is willing to stop until Reyna, still injured from the fight with the sea serpent, collapses to her hands and knees and Percy calls it quits.

"We can't walk through the night," Percy sighs, helping Reyna to her feet. "Let's set up camp here."

Annabeth is the first to figure out how to prop up the tents, and as a reward, she claims the largest tent in the name of Athena, much to the disgruntlement of the other demigods. It's only when Annabeth spreads tactical plans over the floor of her tent that the other kids understand that whoever stays in her tent that night won't be getting much sleep, what with the rustling of paper and strategic mutterings Annabeth would no doubt be spewing in her dreams.

Luke is the second person to get his tent aloft, but he graciously offers it to Reyna, which garners him a bit more respect amongst the group. It's once Percy and Piper are attempting the third that Annabeth and Luke begin what would be known as the most dangerous game of hot potato ever, as the potato was a bowl of Greek fire.

"I thought you had it!" Luke says apologetically while getting swatted by a rolled up map courtesy of Annabeth.

"No," Annabeth growls, continuing to hit him while Leo and Jason look on in amusement, "you said, 'Here, Annabeth! Catch!' THAT WAS THE ONLY WARNING, LUKE. I am _this close_to dumping this urn on your head!"

Funnily enough, however, once Annabeth finishes her tirade against Luke, the mood around the camp becomes far friendlier, especially between Luke and Jason, who seem to commiserate over how Annabeth's bad side is not a side one would want to be on.

Annabeth is sharpening her knives by the fire when she overhears an achingly familiar laugh: it's Percy, clutching at his sides, wheezing with the force of his giggling. It seems Piper is telling him a story about her first quest, and Percy seems very amused.

"Gwen would love that story," Percy sighs, wiping a tear from his eye. "She always enjoys hearing about girls kicking butt." Percy looks out into the dark around the campsite longingly and Annabeth groans in pain: she's accidentally cut her palm with her knife.

"Crap," she hisses as blood begins to stream from the cut.

"Here," says a voice from behind her, and a compress is suddenly on her hand, delivered by Luke: the one and only.

Annabeth nods her thanks and presses the cloth down, wrapping it around her hand twice before tying it off in a simple knot.

"You okay?" Luke asks, taking a seat next to Annabeth. Percy and Piper are chatting away around ten feet from them, and the distance is enough to mask their words.

"Not really," Annabeth sighs gloomily. "Haven't been for a while."

Luke glances at Percy, brows furrowing. "Can I take a guess at the source of your unhappiness?" Annabeth shrugs her shoulders in response. "Is said source a son of Poseidon that I need to beat up?"

"Don't beat him up," Annabeth says without force. "But yeah. It's about Percy." She pauses thoughtfully. "It seems like it's always about Percy."

Luke throws an easy arm around Annabeth's shoulders, tugging her into his side. "Then make it _not_about Percy. If that's what you want, I mean."

And there's the rub. Annabeth groans, pressing her eyes into Luke's chest.

"I wish I knew what I wanted," Annabeth says, voice muffled by Luke's shirt. For a moment, things feel extraordinarily normal, as if Luke had never betrayed her and left Camp Half-Blood. Jason walks by the two of them and the moment is broken: Annabeth moves back, away from Luke.

"I don't know if you'll believe me when I say this, but I want to see you happy, Annabeth," Luke sighs, running a hand through his blonde hair. "If Percy can't make you happy anymore, find someone else who will. I hate to see you all… pine-y."

"Pine-y?" Annabeth laughs. "Are you calling me prickly, Castellan?" Though the message stated is clear, all it does is cloud Annabeth's thoughts with images of another blonde boy she knows.

Jason enters Annabeth's tent purposefully, with a mission in mind, but all his intentions melt away when he sees her: knees bunched up, concentrating hard on the pile of plans before her, brow furrowed, fingers drumming against her calves.

"Hey," he says, ducking into the tent. Annabeth, startled, claws for her knife, and then relaxes. "Sorry to interrupt," he adds, and she shrugs, brushing the papers in front of her to the side.

"Nah, it's okay," Annabeth says kindly. "I should probably stop soon. Just can't get this damn maneuver to work in my head."

Jason brushes the diagram before her away and sits in front of her, waiting in silence for... for what, exactly? Jason didn't know. They stay quiet as Annabeth clears her throat and lets out an uneasy breath.

"We need to talk," Jason finally says, breaking the silence. "I need to know where you stand. Where _we_stand." He clenches his hands tightly in frustration. "Have I been imagining things here, Annabeth? Have I been that deluded?"

Annabeth's eyebrows raise in concern, and she shakes her head back and forth. A knot Jason hadn't known was there unfurls within the pit of his stomach.

"Well," Jason says. "Well good, then. I guess." Another long pause.

"My fatal flaw is pride, Jason," Annabeth tells him at last, hand dancing across his knee. Jason feels electrified by her touch. He senses as if the two of them are on the edge of something greater: something intense and aching and incredible. "I want to build something that lasts across time. It's part of why I was so honored to be Olympus's architect: there, I had the chance to build an eternal paradise. To create things that would never die."

She sighs. "I want what I had—have… with Percy to last forever, too," she says, apologetic eyes staring through him. "That's why I have to try. And why this," she says, glancing away, "whatever this is, has to stop." Jason for a moment feels as though the floor has gone out from under him... Annabeth, however, continues dancing her fingers on and around his knee, and Jason's confusion begins to mount. On one hand, she is cutting him off with her words, but her touch remains a constant reminder of her simultaneous desire for him.

_Now it's time to fight for what I want,_Jason decides.

"Annabeth," he murmurs, entwining her fingers with his, rubbing a strong thumb against the back of her hand. "What if he never remembers?"

Annabeth's eyes shine. "He'll remember. And if he doesn't, we can begin again."

"You don't deserve that kind of heartbreak," Jason murmurs, scooting closer to her so that their torsos are nearly touching. "You deserve the world, and I can give that to you. With me, you wouldn't have to begin again. With me, you could just… live. I care about you, Annabeth. Not eventually: today. I care about you right now. And you don't have to work for it: you already have my love." The words pour out now, and Jason almost feels as if he's summoning a lightning bolt or flying through the air: that's the same kind of power he feels surging through his body.

Annabeth says nothing. Jason leans in and presses his nose against Annabeth's neck, lifting her mass of blonde curls up to kiss her throat. She sighs in response, and Jason brings himself to her lips. He does not lean forward, however: he cannot let her be the passive one now. It takes a moment of quiet stillness, but then Annabeth presses her lips against his own, and the whole world is falling away: there is no quest, no impending doom, no amnesia, no questions… there is just Annabeth, and the way her breath fogs up his thoughts, and her arms around his neck, her legs wrapped around his waist.

Her touch makes him burn, and his heart beats fast now, adrenaline pumping through his veins as though he is in the heat of battle. He finds the hem of her shirt and lets his hands find their way beneath it. He claws at the skin of her back, clutching her to his chest. Annabeth's fingers thread through Jason's hair, then drop to yank his shirt above his head… and then he is shirtless and laying her down on the floor of the tent. He hovers above her, forearms on the ground on each side of her chest, lips running across her collarbone.

"Jason," she heaves breathlessly. "Please…" His thigh finds its way between her legs so that their limbs thread together seamlessly. She groans and arches her hips upward against him, and Jason moans in turn. It's nearly too much, the scene of Annabeth beneath him, writhing in pleasure. It's too perfect.

_Too perfect._The moment Jason thinks it, Annabeth's expression slides from ecstasy to blankness.

"Annabeth?" Jason murmurs. "What's wrong?"

She turns her head to the side, staring at the side of the tent.

"No," Jason whispers. "Don't do this. Don't." But she does not make eye contact with him until Jason slowly removes himself from their entanglement.

At last, Annabeth draws away from him, shaking her head.

"I can't," she says. "I can't, I can't do this—"

"You can't what, Annabeth?" Jason says, anger now in his voice. "You can't be _happy_? Is that it?"

Annabeth's eyes flash aggressively, and the two seethe at each other for a heated moment. Annabeth brushes her hair back and evenly inhales and exhales, attempting to calm down.

"I'm too old for you, Grace… and your sister would probably kill me in my sleep," Annabeth finally jokes, but her voice is choked and stifled.

Jason's chest feels constricted, like he can barely breath. "Don't—don't joke about this, Annabeth," he manages, his hand palming his own chest.

Annabeth's eyes gaze mournfully at him. She gives him back his shirt, and he pulls it on wordlessly. He stands up and goes to leave before the emotions bottled up inside him can erupt. He cannot tell if it's rage or grief driving him out the tent now. He supposes it doesn't matter.

"It could have been you," she tells him softly. Jason stops in his tracks but does not turn to face her. "If we had grown up together in the same way Percy and I did… well, you've got that spark."

"Son of Jupiter, occupational hazard," Jason says, voice void of emotion.

"Now who's joking," Annabeth prods back hesitantly, but in a moment, Jason is gone, out into the darkness of the campsite, leaving her alone in her self-proclaimed Tent of Athena, surrounded by crumpled paper and an overwhelming desire to punch something.


End file.
